"I am always happy to take credit where blame is due."--John Davis Frain

Saturday, July 08, 2017

What are we sending to Mr. Sherman, Agent to the Bestsellers?

On Thursday I packed up a box of [somethings] for my boon companion in bourbon, Brooks Sherman.

Of course, any time there are boxes, and tape, and promises of an adventure, the animal life perks right up.

No exception that day. No sooner had I affixed the address than my pet spider (which we know is not an octopus) dropped in and start planning her entry into that box. (With eight legs, she can cut the tape, slide in, and retape the seams in while enclosed. I've seen her do it.)

However, she changed her mind when she heard what I was shipping over to Our Man Brooks.

It's Janet's own entry into the "Humans are Weird" canon. It is about the most feared human/alien integration specialist in the alliance, a fierce woman with the keen eyes which see all.

The humans stationed on alliance ships both fear an inspection and revere her in a baffling (to the aliens) mix of hope, trepidation and adoration. Humans with a passing integration grade are sought for advanced missions, yet those that fail often feel they benefit the most and widely share their failure report.

Most terrifying to the aliens is her shark-like smile. They have been told humans bare their teeth in signs of friendship rather than aggression. But this smile is like no other.

Oh, and the box contains a delightful mix of chocolate and whiskey to accompany the story.

Hmm. My guess wasn't as funny as everyone else's. So I guzzled a bit more coffee and studied the picture more intently...

Hmm. Priority Mail 1-Day. Must be urgent.

Large Flat Rate Box. I had to go to the USPS website to see what that was all about. A flat rate, no matter how heavy? Sounds like books to me...

So... Mr. Sherman is collecting books to send to the Friends of the Library for a special sale, and Ms. Shark is clearing older non-client books off her shelves to make way for all her newer client books. The box contains books that she is reluctantly donating, knowing they're going to a good cause, but still watching them sadly leave. A few tears may have fallen into the box...

Shark tears are deathly poisonous to octospiders, so your pal decided not to be in an enclosed space with them.

...Or maybe it's fresh fish, and the octospider decided not to go along because, if USPS is anything like Canada Post, 1-day could become 1-week, and that fish in that small space would make it hard for even an octospider to breathe. If she hasn't tried to nibble on the Shark yet, she may even be allergic to seafood...

...Or maybe it's Gary Corby ARCs to hand out at a conference that's coming up quickly.

It's a Large Flat Rate Box. The address where it's going is in NYC, with an almost-identical zip code to where it originated [as opposed to, say, another Sherman who lives at 42 Wallaby Way]. Therefore, for a flat rate box make sense, the item must be heavy [otherwise a standard rate box would be less expensive].

You're sending Brooks a "build your own" shark kit so he can begin terrorizing his own interns since he's moved on from padawan to full Jedi-status (to mix my metaphors). But you left out a few pieces of the shark-kit to remind him that you're still a few steps (swishes?) ahead.

Hi. This is Jenny's daughter. Mom made me promise to keep her off Twitter and all other forms of social media until she's completed draft 1 of her WIP. And besides, it's a beautiful day. You people should be outside or something.

With fourth of July in the rear view mirror, Janet was feeling a wee bit bored. Never one to drown in the dreaded doldrums, she assembled her package with care. The spider took one look and spun off Tarzan-like through the jungle of books.

The box filled with hollow, lightweight orbs, sharp-pointed throwing spears, a blindfold and a poster of a tailless jackass was ready to go to Mr. Sherman.

Janet's teeth gleamed as she set out the polished glasses and the bourbon. Bar games and bourbon. The cure-all.

I guess poor Mr. Sherman didn't realize when he cheekily told you, "Feel free to send along anything off-beat, slightly disturbing, and/or not quite right in the head you run across," you'd take him literally.

Oh, the irony of it all! It's heavy, it's July...it's none other than my great-grandmother's special recipe Christmas fruitcake that I sent you back in December. It's obvious the spider knows a good thing when he sees one. And you didn't even have a piece. At least Brooks knows what goes good with a nice bourbon.

Out of curiosity, I googled "What do spiders hate?" (I really hope no one ever checks my search history - I wander down a lot of internet rabbit holes).

In any case, the answers were fantastic. Turns out spiders hate peppermint, vinegar, citrus, tobacco, lady bugs, pets (other than lady bugs) and chestnuts (supposedly - not actually sure how that one is supposed to work).

Accordingly, I guess that the box contains a peppermint scented cat with a pet lady bug that smokes citrus flavoured tobacco and sleeps in a bed of chestnuts. I've left the vinegar out as posting vinegar to someone would be a ridiculous thing to do.

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